


Grand Slam

by froofie



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Benedict Cumberbatch Real Person Fiction, benedict cumberbatch rpf - Fandom
Genre: Baseball, Blow Job, Cunnilingus, F/M, Hand Job, RPF, Teasing, baseball terminology, benedict cumberbatch rpf, pants are trousers, real person fic, real person fiction - Freeform, sweaty kink, that damn chambray shirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froofie/pseuds/froofie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Storming Teacup (Trish) and 221_Tea (Kristen).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Slam

As I sat nestled in my reading chair, he stood above me, warm and glistening, enthusiastically recalling the details about watching his first live game as he toed off his socks and shoes. The energy of the entire baseball stadium seemed to radiate off of his tanned hot skin. His blue denim shirt, currently unbuttoned too far down for the public, but just fine for me, was being wafted back and forth as he used it to cool himself. He smelled like beer and hot dogs and....men. I stared up at him, not listening. I painted over his body with my eyes, repeatedly. I shifted in my seat, leaning my head back, quietly inhaling him. A bit of his faded cologne drifted by in the air with his movements. I bit my lip. I closed my eyes, my imagination bubbling to life. I wanted him above me, sweaty from desire and breathing heavy. I wanted to feel him everywhere around and inside me, his hot breath panting down my body.  
“I’m boring you,” he resigned himself, once again, to the the potential fact that he’d rambled on too long. He started to move out of the living room in apology.  
“No Ben,” I sat forward and caught his arm, pulling him closer to the edge of my chair. “I’m...just....I’m drinking you in.”  
“I stink, love, just say it.” He took his cap off. His matted wavy hair sat flat on his head. An errant curl popped out, he habitually smoothed it back. It returned.  
“On the contrary," my voice rumbled softly, "You smell...delicious.” I steadied my hands on either side of his hips, thumbing the pockets of his pants. “Intoxicating.”  
“Bollocks.”  
“Yes.” I looked up at him with a twinkle in my eye, letting my hand brush the front of his trousers. There was no way to hide his growing enthusiasm.  
“But I’m dirty and smelly and,” he glanced down at his well-worn Chambray shirt, tutting and wiping, “covered in peanut shells and mustard.”  
“All the better.” I crooked a finger under his belt, jerking him closer. I reached around and squeezed his butt. A curious little “mmm” rumbled in his throat as he started to come around to my way of thinking. I watched his eyes, the memory of the game leaving his mind as he began to focus on the moment at hand.  
“I see I’m not the only dirty one,” he slowly began to undo the remaining shirt buttons, letting it hang open, exposing just enough bare torso. I started to reach out but he playfully swatted my hand away. “Oh no you don't. It's your turn to strip. Arms up, slugger!”  
I obeyed and he lifted off my flimsy t-shirt.  
Now clad only in little pink panties, I leaned back in the chair, letting him enjoy the view, while I unhooked his belt with one hand. The clinking of the metal seemed to ring out through the entire room. I unzipped him, keeping his trousers buttoned. His hardness, having a little more freedom now, strained and beautifully framed itself in his opened fly. I pressed my hand against him, massaging, gripping. His breath came out in starts. I stood up close to his body,  opening  his shirt, trailing my hands over his abs and behind his back. His skin was soft and moist. My body, cold from the air conditioning, warmed against his, while his hands found their way to my waist. We held each other for a moment, looking in each other’s eyes, wondering who would pounce first..  
“Your tits looked amazing in that  t-shirt.”  
“Shall I put it back on?” I made no effort to move. His eyes focused on my lips, his cock pressed eagerly against me. I couldn’t wait for him to reach down and feel how wet I was.  
“It’d just be in the way.” We were swaying back and forth a bit, feeding off of the teasing.

“Like this is?” I slid the shirt off his freckled shoulders. It dangled helplessly from his forearms until he released his grip on my hips and let it fall to the floor.  
A soft “Yes” escaped his lips before he leaned down and kissed me, sweetly at first, then full on. He inhaled deeply, crushing our bodies together in a tight embrace. I held on behind his neck, opening my mouth to his, tasting cheap beer on his tongue. His hands were on my ass, kneading and grabbing the instant I started licking his salty neck. I hooked a leg around his thigh and swiveled my hips as I pulled down on his earlobe with my teeth. We went back to deep kisses as I felt his hand travel down between our bodies to feel me between my legs.  
“I see I’m also not the only wet one,” he barely managed to speak as his full lips tugged on mine, opening me wider, licking and sucking my tongue. I reached down and undid the button on his pants, taking him out of his boxer briefs. rubbing around his head. He thrusted a tad in my grip, getting my hand wet with pre-come. I sat down on the edge of the chair, pushed off his remaining clothes, bringing my mouth closer to his cock, holding on to his ass with both hands. I buried my face in his hair, kissing him at the base. The smell of his sex was potent and it drove me to take him completely in my mouth and suck repeatedly with desire, moaning at his taste.  
“Oh fuc--shit---that’s amaz---” He couldn’t get the words out. My hands roamed around, exploring any curve his body offered, feeling the hidden softness of his inner thighs. When I was done, I swirled my tongue around his swollen dark pink head, eagerly pointing up at me. Caught up in the moment, he thrust back into my mouth. I spanked him hard and sat up. Before I could make another move, he was on his knees, laying me back in the chair, spreading and bending my legs, burying his mouth in my pussy.  He bit at my wet panties, growling a little at their insistence in being in his way. He lightly jerked the material to the side so his mouth could make contact with my wet flesh. He buried his face in deep and moaned as he opened his mouth on me. I closed my eyes, held on to his hair and let him go to town until I came, pressing myself against his face, arching my back. He snuck in two fingers so he could feel me pulsing around him.  
He pulled off my panties and traced his hands back up my calves, my thighs, over my belly, gently squeezing my tits. His hands cupped my face and he kissed me, lapping and provoking with his tongue.  
“Do you like how you taste, my dirty girl?” He dropped the question into my ear, licking inside.  
“Better than a cannoli...” I teased.  
“Infinitely.” He kissed my cheek and grazed his fingertips over my clit, then went on exploring the rest of my body. “But there seems to be a problem.” He thumbed my nipples.  
“What?” I looked down at myself in concern.  
“I think it only fair that you get as hot and sweaty as I am.”   
“Uhh...take me out to the ballgame?” I innocently offered between kisses.  
“If you insist.” He stood up, offering his hand, and started walking me through the house.  
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, knowing well and good where we were going.

“Level playing field.” When we reached the semi-dark bedroom, he patted my bottom all the way to the unmade bed. I squealed and stuck my butt out even further, feeling my body wobble with every loving blow. I turned to face him, legs backed against the mattress.  
“What now, coach?” I laughed but when I looked up, I saw that he meant business. He moved closer, causing me to fall back on the bed. I made a natural attempt to hold myself up but he leaned forward over me, between my bent legs and kept moving, forcing us to the center, and I was laid on top of the tangled sheets.  My hands fell above my head, my legs held on to his as he spoiled me with kisses, first on my neck, then down my chest, ravishing my breasts until I was pressing my hips against him and moaning out his name. He pet me between my legs.  
“I want to make you come again.” He said between his love bites on my belly.  
“Yes. Make me come again, Ben.” I murmured, eyes closed. My hands immediately went to his hair while he sucked and teased my clitoris and fingered me, obeying my whispered speed requests until I was sweaty and breathing heavy, uttering an unending stream of _fuck yes_ -es, my body shuddering. He lingered on me, kissing my inner thighs, enjoying his work. He held on to one of my breasts and my hand went over his, feeling him squeeze and play a bit.  
Shifting up and laying on his side, body close to mine, he mercifully let me come down. My eyes were closed and I drifted away for a second, letting contentment wash over me, but a deep moan from him brought me back to the moment. I didn’t realize I had started absentmindedly fondling him. I opened my eyes and watched him lay back as my movements became more deliberate. I sat up, eager to continue.  
I gently massaged him until he was pressing against my palm with want. My stroking intensified as did as my delight at watching him squirm under my touch. When his desire spilled out in incomprehensible words and sighs, I let my mouth take over, wetting him, slicking up my lips. I sucked him hard and clawed at his quadriceps until his increasing cries turned me on completely. I needed him inside me, spreading me and making me throb. Before I could make another move, he sat up quickly, gathered my face in his hands and kissed me hard. His kisses of passion and appreciation were my favorite. I straddled his lap, letting him slowly fill me and his kissing returned, overtaking me. He fell back on a randomly strewn pillow and I went forward over him. I let him thrust into me, slowly at first, his tongue meanwhile filling my mouth. His movements dominated until my lust took over and I returned his motions with my own. His hands clutched and swatted my ass as he eagerly pushed into me over and over, both of us loud and verbal, until my third and his first orgasm took hold. We were hot and sweaty and the nastiest we’d ever been together. He must have felt the same way because in the midst of us catching our breath, I heard him sigh out a cheeky, “Home run...”  


Eventually, afterwards, I sent him to the showers.


End file.
